Category Archives: Uncategorized

Frustrated.

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My job takes a lot of time and energy in a thousand different ways. I have to deal with 150+ diverse personalities every day. I have to prepare material to start with and then later grade it. I have to deal with coworkers, many of whom I don’t like much. More and more kids are coming to me to dump their emotional problems. I’m glad I can help them, but it takes a lot of energy. (‘Nother kid today.) BTSA is going to be a serious pain in my ass, but I have to do it. At least my mentor doesn’t suck and I don’t have to repeat the stuff I did last year.

Having a house requires me to clean and fix stuff. I am supposed to prepare healthy food multiple times a day (yeah fucking right–we so eat out of the microwave). Noah has been doing way more than his share.

The Interloper is *not* being accepted by Puff. Which means that both cats are pissed constantly. This results in Puff hissing and not allowing affection and the Interloper is crying constantly and I am having fantasies of harming her. This isn’t good. The Interloper can’t remain in our household.

TNG Con stuff is starting to come faster and harder. I have less than 5 months until D-Day. I have a big job and people who want me to do stuff above and beyond my job. I want to cry or quit or something. I will never ever sign on for this shit again.

I’m sick of having fucking yeast infections constantly. It burns and itches. It is driving me nuts.

I’m sick of people telling me how to get pregnant. It is getting to the point where I am pretty nasty when people start lecturing me on what I “should” do to get pregnant. I don’t want to have sex anymore. Sex isn’t fun. It seems frustrating and disappointing.

I’m not in the mood to talk about how people interact and why it doesn’t work for someone or what they want to get out of their community. I feel like this problem is being laid at my feet and I don’t want to fucking hear it.

And we need to unpack from last weekend, but when? I get to go to a fucking meeting (oh wait, TWO fucking meetings) tomorrow night. Noah has declared Friday to be a coding night (he’s bloody earned it, that doesn’t mean I’m good at being patient with him doing computer stuff while I clean up after *us*). I’m supposed to go dancing, but it seems like a really bad idea considering the rest of my weekend. Saturday I have to go to a training from 9-12. Then we get to have dinner and go see a play with one of Noah’s fucking legion of ex’s. Seeing most of them is anxiety inducing and stressful for me for no good reason at all. Sunday we are hosting a tantra class and the last thing I am in the mood to do right now is be patient or spiritual or breathe. I’m going to be fussy if people cancel though because it will feel like one more thing to happen.

I just want to scream. If you decide to give me well meaning advice don’t feel surprised if you are kicked off my friends list. I don’t want to fucking hear it. This phase will pass, but I’m fucking frustrated.

Yes Virginia, your voice counts too.

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We’re talking about racism in all of my classes right now as part of the different units we are doing. So I brought up the Jena 6. (If you have never heard of them, google the term.) The kids are incensed. They asked me how we can help so we are getting together after school tomorrow to figure out how the kidlets can help raise money and awareness.

Have I mentioned lately that I love my job? That my kids are constant sources of amazement to me?

fucking piece of shit BTSA.

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Have I mentioned that I hate BTSA? Wow. What a fabulous way to ensure that I *don’t* want to be a teacher.

(BTSA is mandatory for people who have a preliminary credential. It is further training to ensure that we are competent teachers. Near as I can tell what it really does is see who will put up with being treated like they are brain dead. I am so fucking livid at the hoops I have to jump through to have this job.)

Never gets easy to hear

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I was teasing the kids who were absent on Friday (so was I). I got to one girl and she told me that she was embarrassed to come because she didn’t have the project they were working on. I asked why not. She said her in-recovery meth addict father got super drunk and destroyed their house. He broke the computer her project was on by throwing it repeatedly against the floor.

She’s staying late and we are going to be talking for a while. I hope I get to help this one.

Out of sorts.

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The Noah and I were not local last weekend. It was an experience. I would love to sit here and catch up on lj and emails and… but alas, that is not to be. I have a unit plan to polish (seeing as I had to start out this morning not knowing what I am doing for the next 5-6 weeks as the unit plan I was planning on using isn’t possible for the next few weeks. fucking technology). I have grading. I have to pretend I give a shit about being evaluated by the state this year.

Con shit is picking up too. That is going to start sucking an increasing amount of my brain.

I’m tired in a very odd bone weary sort of way. I’m tired of being a pariah. I’m tired of having people look at me as if there is something wrong with me. I feel like I should just give up on meeting people. I won’t though. I guess it’s cause I am a masochist. Or maybe because I am stupid.

Well that figures.

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Did that career builder thing. (www.careercruising.com – login: nycareers; password: landmark)

There are very specific reasons I *don’t* want the top 5 careers. I find that funny. And there is no way I could work in physical training of any kind. Just because I like to move around and not sit in a desk != being in shape.

1.Principal
2.Special Education Teacher
3.Elementary School Teacher
4.Child and Youth Worker
5.Teacher Assistant
6.High School Teacher
7.Probation / Parole Officer
8.Fitness Instructor
9.Curator
10.Funeral Director
11.Coach
12.Early Childhood Educator
13.Social Worker
14.Anthropologist
15.Personal Trainer
16.Professor
17.Career Counselor
18.Adoption Counselor
19.Addictions Counselor
20.Clergy

Update on those parental types who object to “queer”

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So I debated whether I should talk to the kidlet about his level of comfort with my disclosure. I decided that I would do it. But then I didn’t get a chance because the kid came up to me instead. He apologized profusely for what his parental types told me. He said that he absolutely does not share their views and he is sorry that they said what they did. He said that he will be not talking to them in the future about this class because he wants me to feel comfortable saying whatever I want.

Sweet.

Back to School Night

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Had my first parent ever tell me they are unhappy that I told the class that I am queer. Well, sorry that you are unhappy about that. It allows dozens of other students to feel more comfortable and safer with me so I don’t think I am going back into the closet.

(I don’t exactly flaunt it, but I do state it as a simple fact when talking about complex issues and why my views are colored the way they are.)

Besides lots of other parents stopped to tell me how much their kids love my class. I’ll just pay attention to that. 🙂

Reflecting.

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The last year has been remarkable. I have been married for a year and 9 days. I have begun my third year of teaching. I painted my house so that I could work on banishing the ghosts from the building. I have made friends. I have unfortunately hurt people. I have faced down demons. I have discovered new trauma. I have learned to trust Noah in ways I never thought I would. I have gained 20 lbs. I have purchased furniture. I have gotten rid of furniture. I have a new kitten. I have gone off birth control. I took Noah to Disneyland for the first time as well as Portland and Seattle. I went to Las Vegas for my first trip and went to a bunch of Cirque shows.

It’s been quite a year. 25 was good to me. Let’s see how 26 goes. 🙂

oh.my.fucking.god.

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I have an ED kid. For those of you who get to live your lives outside the realm of school, that means Emotionally Disturbed. As in: batshit crazy. I’m going to kill him. He is disturbed enough that he shouldn’t be in public school. He disrupts the class with rude, inappropriate behavior. We were having a very sensitive, difficult, touchy conversation about racism and when kids shared things he laughed at them. This is a minor outburst for him apparently. I was livid. This is my god damn advanced class and he is alienating people to the point where they don’t want to have a serious conversation.

This child is not in the right place and I want him out. I just don’t know if it will happen. 🙁

Not what I expected.

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I took the advice of my therapist and a good friend. I did what I wanted for my birthday. It happened yesterday. It was fucking fabulous. No, ya’ll don’t get to know what it was. 😛 Ok, James and Chris know, but they have to keep their mouths shut.

I will tell you that Noah is the best husband ever for making me hand drawn “I will do ….” coupons. They are sweet and adorable and show a lot of work and consideration about what *I* actually want. Have I mentioned I married the right boy?

And! As a sorta birthday/really Christmas present to both of us–we booked a Disney cruise for Christmas vacation. We’re going to Disney World!!!!!!!!! SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

So. Fucking. Excited.

And tired. And hung over. Today I will smile wanly and not be my normal fireball self. That’s fine. 3/5 periods are doing research in the library. It’s almost like I planned for this…

Birthday blues.

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I have not had a history of good birthdays. Pre-18 most of them were either screamingly awful in every way or at least had some drama that soured them. 19 I spent with Anna. She brought me flowers and a balloon and took me to dinner. That was one of my best birthdays ever. 20 consisted of Anna and Tom giving me flowers and taking me to dinner. That was a pretty decent birthday. 21 was the temper tantrum Anna threw at BaGG because going reminded her of her own abuse history. 22 was totally ignored because we were going on a trip later that month. (Uhm… it’s for your birthday! Yeah! Oh, I was planning it anyway… oh well. Don’t get me wrong. The trip was awesome.) 23 was the awkward birthday party that Tom hosted after I broke up with him. Right. It was a good birthday party but so strangely uncomfortable. 24 I woke up and spent the morning crying because I knew Puppy wanted to break up with me. Then I spent the day watching Noah and his then girlfriend and feeling jealous with no way to express that. heh. 25 was mostly ignored.

My birthday is destined to go poorly. It just seems to be fate. I desperately wish that weren’t true, but due to circumstances beyond my control and having weird feelings about the event I don’t think I am capable of enjoying a birthday. I want to do something, but I don’t know what. Noah has suggested trips but I’m stupid and petty and my response is, “Oh yeah! Let’s duplicate that trip you took with how many ex girlfriends?!” I know I shouldn’t react that way. I don’t seem to be able to stop though.

I wish I knew what I wanted. If I knew what I wanted I could at least ask for it and hope to get it. But I don’t know. So I sit here and think–ok, Monday is another birthday. What did I accomplish in the last 12 months? I survived my first year of marriage without making him hate me. Woo hoo!! That is a big one. I painted my house. I survived teaching full time. But I still feel like something is missing. I feel like I am failing in some big, painfully obvious way because there is something I want and don’t seem to be able to have.

I hate my birthday.

Much with the yay

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Yesterday I got a note in my box telling me that one of my new students (I have had 8-9ish kids added to my class yesterday and today) has Asperger’s and giving me very direct suggestions for how best to get along with him and help him be successful in class. It’s awesome. I wish all children had similar socialization specificities! If he says stuff in a nasty tone of voice accidentally I can tell him, “Try again” and he will rephrase dropping the attitude. I think that is fabulous. It talks about how to help him adjust to disruptions in routine. It’s a really neat document. I was cracking up as I read it, “Good lord! It’s like all of my friends!” I sent his mother an email today thanking her for the heads up and the hints about how to help him adjust. She seems pleased. 🙂

A few kids were talking about wussing out of 2A and I managed to talk them into staying. I’m glad they are staying. I think it will be a fun class. I am now several kids past my contract limits in basically all classes. w00t. heh Apparently kids are requesting to stay in my class when schedule changes happen. I feel really good about that.

The kids are already writing how much they love me on the board. I know it is generic ass-kissing, but I still like it. 🙂 Of course my response in class is to make fun of them and call them a brown-noser. I do it with a big smile and a silly tone of voice… It’s going so well.

Holy shit. I’m The Man.

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Today I had the counseling department take a girl out of my advanced English course because there is no way she would be able to pass. (If you are two books behind by the second week…. yeah, no.) I made this decision. I just decided that this person is off the advanced/honors track for my school. It is technically possible for her to get back on it later, but it is pretty rare. For the record, she wanted out and told me so–this wasn’t done against her will. But I made the call that caused this to happen because counseling wouldn’t listen to her. I just influenced her potential acceptance to college. Holy shit. I’m mostly aware that I do this when I assign grades, but I really believe that you *earn* your grade. This was a different thing.

I also made the decision to allow three more students into honors track because if they don’t go into my class they don’t go into honors. (We are terribly over-crowded.) I am allowing them to overload my class past my contract limits because I’m freaked out by the fact that I decide whether or not these children are looked at for admission into future honors/AP classes.

And I discovered last year that if a kid wants into any AP class with a focus on writing on my campus they need the approval of their English teacher. I have turned kids down. There have been several kids who have tried to get into AP classes but weren’t allowed because *I* judge their skills to be insufficient.

Holy shit. I’m The Man.